


My Dear, Forgotten Friend

by caighdean



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Gen, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Trauma, at least for the most part anyway, no beta we die like Glenn, spoilers for the whole game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25106377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caighdean/pseuds/caighdean
Summary: "Let's swear that we'll always be friends, no matter what happens between now and whenever we see each other again. Okay?""Yeah! You're right, El, what kind of prince would I be if I didn't stick to my word? I swear I'll always be your friend, no matter what happens."When El leaves Fhirdiad for Enbarr, her and Dima make a promise: an oath on the dagger he gives her, to remain friends no matter what. Time passes, and Dima and El go through more than any teenagers should have to, before they wind up together again at the Officers' Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. Dimitri and Edelgard are different people now, with different goals and a lot more baggage weighing on their shoulders. Will they keep the promise they made in Fhirdiad?Basically, the end of AM broke my heart, and I think Edelgard and Dimitri's relationship is one of the biggest "what ifs" in Three Houses. Inspired by this comment on the FE subreddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/fireemblem/comments/hlaf67/young_edelgard_and_dimitri_oc/fwxrw95/?context=3.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue: A Promise in Fhirdiad

**Author's Note:**

> As the tags and summary indicate, this fic is first and foremost about Dimitri and Edelgard, not as lovers, but as pseudo-siblings and friends. I also want to try and give Dedue a bit more of a role, as I felt IS did him dirty a little by making his personality a bit bland as well as making him, as a unit, pretty unsuited for Hard or Maddening mode (in my opinion anyway) - so we'll see how that pans out. 
> 
> Other relationships will be added to the tags and story as and when I feel they naturally develop from the story, but the focus will be on the prince and the princess. This is my first fic, and my first piece of creative writing in a very long time, so please leave constructive criticism if you feel like it!

Imperial Year 1174

Fhirdiad, Holy Kingdom of Faerghus

_The Prince_

“El, wait!”

The blonde boy ran as fast as he could over the cobblestoned main courtyard of the royal palace in Fhirdiad, almost stumbling over some uneven stones in his haste. A brown-haired, lilac-eyed girl, standing by herself in the courtyard, turned around in surprise and walked over to meet him. They had played together many times in this courtyard over the past year, but the boy had a feeling that wouldn’t be happening today.

“Dima, what is it?” Dima almost skidded to a halt and panted, his hands on his knees, before looking up and addressing her.

“El! So it’s true...you’re really going away? Going back home?” His pale blue eyes held worry as he stood up straight to talk to his best friend. El shook her head sadly, her pigtails swaying slightly in the cool northern breeze, and replied.

“There’s nothing I can do about it. It’s all happening so fast...I’m as surprised as you are”. Dima’s face fell, although in truth he had known the answer already. He looked at the floor for a moment before reaching behind his belt and pulling out a small dagger with a flat, sharp steel blade and a hilt wrapped in leather dyed Faerghus blue, with an ornate golden crosspiece.

“Um...here. I want you to have this.” His voice picked up in confidence as he spoke. “Listen to me, El. No matter how hard things get, you can’t give in, okay? You’ve got to cut a path to the future you wish for, no matter what.” The Adrestian girl was clearly taken aback by the present, and it didn’t seem to Dima as though she was pleased with it. Dismayed by her expression and no longer very confident, Dima trailed off. He wanted to explain, but the words caught in his throat as El took the dagger from him, holding it gingerly as if it might injure her at any moment.

“Dima, why would you give me something like this?” Her voice wasn’t angry, more confused. Dima could feel his cheeks grow hot.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t think of anything better to give you”. He mumbled something afterwards that sounded a bit like “Gustave said...”, but the words were too low for her to catch, and hung his head a little. Suddenly, a sharp, commanding voice interrupted their farewell.

“Edelgard! What are you doing? It’s time to go. Hurry and get in the carriage”. A tall, stern-faced man with shoulder-length brown hair and a thin beard, the Adrestian noble Volkhard von Arundel, beckoned to her from a waiting carriage. The vehicle, made out of stout black oak, was emblazoned with the coat of arms of the Adrestian Empire: the double-headed eagle seemed to glare around the courtyard, as if looking for potential enemies in every corner. El turned quickly towards her uncle.

“I’m sorry uncle, I’m coming! Just one second!” She gripped the hilt of the dagger with less hesitation than before, turned back towards Dima and squared her shoulders; she didn’t have much time before one of Lord Arundel’s retainers fetched her. “I don’t really get why you gave me this, but it’s okay. I’m going to miss you, Dima. It might be a long time before we see each other again, but I’ll always remember teaching you how to dance. Even if it took a while to get you up to standard”. Dima looked up, the light returning to his eyes, and grinned.

“Hey, I’m not that bad! And I’m going to miss you too, El. I’m just worried”, he said, kicking the cobblestones nervously, “that the next time we see each other we’ll be different people, and we won’t remember how to be friends anymore.” El’s expression firmed for an instant, and then she smiled back at Dima, warmly but with a hint of that determination she always had when someone told her she couldn’t do something.

“We’ll always be friends, Dima. Adrestia’s not that different to Faerghus! I can’t promise I won’t change, but I can promise I'll still be your friend. Here.” She took his hands in hers and placed them so they both held the dagger. “You’re always telling me about all the oaths knights swear in Faerghus, so let’s swear an oath right now. Let’s swear that we’ll always be friends, no matter what happens between now and whenever we see each other again. Okay?” Dima’s face lit up again.

“Yeah! You’re right, El, what kind of prince would I be if I didn’t stick to my word? I swear I’ll always be your friend, no matter what happens.” His expression turned serious and he clasped the dagger tightly as he spoke, willing the words to come true. In the cold air, El’s hands felt warm around his.

“I swear it too, Dima. Now, I really have to go!” The two young nobles shared a quick embrace and then El ran off towards the carriage. She gave Dima a quick wave as she scrambled in beside Lord Arundel, and then one of the imperial retainers shut the door and climbed up into the seat on the front of the carriage to drive the team of horses forward.

“Bye, El...” Dima waved in response, then slowly let his hand fall as the imperial entourage set forth through the portcullis at the front of the castle grounds. As he did, a gauntleted hand clapped him on the shoulder gently, and he looked up into the face of his father, who was standing to his right and watching the carriage leave. King Lambert wore his ceremonial blue and silver armour, and a silver clasp emblazoned with the Crest of Blaiddyd, the symbol of the royal house of Faerghus, held in place a heavy blue cloak trimmed with ermine. His other hand covered his ice-blue eyes from the sun’s glare as he watched, then stroked his blonde beard thoughtfully as he spoke.

“It’s alright, Dimitri. You’ll see her again. I can’t imagine Emperor Ionius would fail to send any child of his to the Officers’ Academy, and the two of you were born in the same year, so you should be there at the same time as her. All the more reason not to slack on your training so you can keep up with her, eh?” King Lambert looked down at his son and smiled reassuringly, pulling Dima closer to him. Dima wasn’t completely reassured and pulled back a little.

“Dad, you _know_ El’s not the heir, she’s not like me,” Dima protested. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters, and her biggest brother’s a great warrior just like you and Gustave, he’ll be the Emperor next and he’s already been to Garreg Mach!” Lambert glanced at the boy’s sulky face and chuckled.

“Dimitri, the Emperor may not _need_ to send Edelgard to the Academy, but he’d be too proud not to. Besides, she has a Crest – that puts her ahead of at least some of her siblings, just like with me and Uncle Rufus. I think that girl’s ambitious, too, so I can’t imagine she’d pass up the chance to go. You won’t be in the same house, of course, but you’ll have more than enough time to socialise. And besides, you can always write to her.”

“I guess. I’m sick of writing to my friends though Dad, I already have to write to all my other friends and they _live_ in Faerghus” Dima’s face remained sullen, and Lambert sighed.

“This is the way of the world, Dimitri. I know you wish Sylvain and Ingrid and the Fraldarius brothers lived nearer, but the people of Faerghus wouldn’t think much of it if the royal family went haring off all around the country to visit your friends all the time. Would they? Enbarr’s practically on the other side of Fódlan, I’m sorry son, but our place is here.” Dima huffed, but he knew his father was right. Duty always came first for a prince, that he had been taught what seemed like a million times.

“I guess not. Let’s go home, Dad. It feels lonely here without El to play with.”

“Right you are, son. We should get back to your stepmother. She so enjoyed having Edelgard and Lord Arundel here, I can’t imagine she’ll be any happier than you to see them leave.”

With that, the King of Faerghus turned away from the portcullis and walked back toward the palace proper, bringing Dima with him, but the young prince couldn’t resist taking one last look back at the gate El left through. As he did, he clenched his fist tightly, and could almost feel the dagger in his hand as he swore again to keep the promise they made that cold morning in Fhirdiad.


	2. Chapter One: Not the Time for Reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flurry of thoughts and plans whirled in Edelgard’s mind, each slotted carefully into order as she and Hubert sketched out an itinerary for the next two weeks before the start of class, making sure to phrase things in a carefully vague manner whenever any passers-by looked like they were getting a bit too curious. She trusted Hubert to be absolutely discreet, but anyone else was a different matter altogether.
> 
> In which we move forward six years, to a week before the house leaders' fateful encounter with Byleth and Jeralt. Edelgard and Dimitri liaise with their right-hand men, and plan the week ahead.

Monday, 14th day of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Officers’ Academy, Garreg Mach Monastery

_The Princess_

Edelgard von Hresvelg folded the last of her clothes and shut the wooden drawer of her dresser, then stood back to look around her room at the Officers’ Academy. It was small compared to her apartments in the Imperial Palace in Enbarr, of course, but that was to be expected, and she had done her best to make it comfortable. She knew she shouldn’t feel too much at home here, but there was nothing wrong with having everything in order. Her clothes were tidied away, the few belongings she had brought resting either on top of the room-length dresser across from the door or on the small vanity table, all standard-issue Academy furnishings. She was the Adrestian princess and the sole heir to the imperial throne, but it would be best that she not appear too aloof or haughty so as to better get on with her fellow students in the Black Eagle House. In any event, she doubted that she would have been able to get a bigger or more attractive room even if she had asked: that just wasn’t how they did things at Garreg Mach.

The axe she had brought with her rested against the back of the closed door, its iron head sharp and newly-forged. Better weapons were available in the armouries of Enbarr, for sure, but although Edelgard had received some combat training, she was not yet strong enough to use many of the heavier or more awkward axes, to say nothing of other weapons. Hopefully, this place would hone her abilities in that regard and in whatever other areas she saw fit to improve upon: after all, she would need them.

Her gaze slid to the vanity table then, to the locked drawer where she had kept her most prized possession. Her father had commissioned a portrait of the royal family upon the birth of her youngest brother, Lukas, and Edelgard had wheedled a preparatory sketch out of the artist who had been given the job. She herself still drew occasionally, but back then she had been obsessed with the process behind portraiture: the staging, the lighting, the technique, all of it. The sketch lay in her drawer, rolled up but creased from the many times she had gazed upon it: a memory of times past, and a reminder of why she did what she had to do. Her thoughts inevitably drifted towards her family whenever she thought of why she was here, why she needed so badly to get stronger. Here, with that sketch locked in her vanity table, the next thing she saw after thinking about it was her own face, in the small oval mirror. The uniform was new, but Edelgard was rarely surprised these days by the white hair framing the face that looked back at her. It was the least awful effect of those dark times in her early teenage years, but it was a constant reminder of the other, less obvious, consequences. _Those horrible, horrible consequences..._

...Edelgard shook her head and snapped back to her room and reality. Now was not the time for reminiscing, particularly over such painful events. She could do nothing to change them now: all she could do was move forward and ensure that the losses she had suffered were not in vain. She stood up from her bed – _when had she sat down?_ – and went to the door. The axe she left by the door, but she did pin her red house leader’s cape to her shoulder: it was important that any of her fellow Black Eagles recognise her in advance of class beginning, as most of them should be here by now. Class didn’t begin until the beginning of the Harpstring Moon, but she had noticed a good few other carriages pull up outside the market in Garreg Mach, no doubt carrying other nobles and their belongings. Relatively few commoners were able to find the resources to go to the Academy, although Edelgard supposed that any who did were more likely than not to be wealthy merchants who would have the funds to make a similar show of themselves and their offspring. Opening the door, the princess was not surprised to find her loyal vassal, Hubert, standing a respectful distance away but still clearly waiting at her beck and call. He gave a smooth bow and walked over to her.

“Lady Edelgard, I hope you have found your room satisfactory. Regretfully, they do not appear to hold themselves to the same standards here at Garreg Mach as they would in Enbarr, but I suppose these things must be tolerated. Is there anything you require?” Hubert said in his soft, somewhat eerie tones, as he tucked a few stray strands of his jet-black hair back behind his ear. Edelgard knew others might find the tall, pale man unsettling, but she was too used to him to let his vampiric appearance bother her: after all, he had been her stalwart confidant and protector ever since she was four years old. Hubert was, she considered not for the first time, probably the only person she truly trusted.

“No thank you, Hubert. My room is much the same as yours, I imagine: after all, it isn’t every year that they have members of the royal family living here. Moreover, as you know, it would not do to appear as though I consider myself better than any of our classmates. I am who I am, but I do not intend to trumpet it around any more than necessary.” Hubert smiled and inclined his head slightly in response.

“As you say, Lady Edelgard. Have you had a chance to peruse the class list provided by the Archbishop’s advisor? I believe it will be to your advantage to have the scions of many of the noble houses of the Empire join you in class. After all, you and I both know that the opportunity to forge truly lasting bonds with other nobles at balls and the like is scarcely comparable to sharing lessons day in and day out.” Edelgard nodded and the pair walked down the corridor towards the staircase as she replied.

“Yes, there are some interesting names on the list here, although I’d like to make alliances beyond just those of noble birth. Bernadetta von Varley is something of a recluse, I’ve heard, though who can tell how true any of those rumours about her are. Count Hevring’s son should be interesting: the Count himself wields a great deal of civic power, but you never hear much about Linhardt. Caspar von Bergliez is a second son, but that can change,” Edelgard had to pause and stop herself from adding “as I know all too well” before carrying on; Hubert picked up where she left off, saving her from her discomfort.

“A second son, yes, and allegedly a loudmouth, although I have heard he and Count Hevring’s son are quite close. Ferdinand von Aegir I have only met in passing and he was rather tiresome, although that is no surprise given who his father is.” At this, Edelgard grimaced slightly and nodded, and Hubert continued. “About Dorothea Arnault I confess I know next to nothing, although any commoner at Garreg Mach is bound to have something unique about them to have made it this far. And then finally there is the heir to the Brigid throne, Petra Macneary: I hoped to arrange a meeting for you with her before we came here, but alas Duke Gerth was otherwise engaged.” By this time, Edelgard and Hubert had reached the bottom of the stairway leading to the nobles’ quarters and stepped out into the sun. It was a pleasant day, reasonably warm for this time of year, despite the fact that the monastery was situated high in the Oghma Mountains. Finished with the list of their classmates, Hubert moved on to other matters.

“An interesting cohort indeed, Lady Edelgard. The next two weeks should be a pleasant opportunity to get to know them before the rigours of classes begin. Shall I pin up a notice on the board beside the Black Eagles classroom to gather them together?”

“Thank you, Hubert, but there’s no need. I have the time, and besides, it would be better for it to come from me anyway. A gathering is a good idea, though, as I do want to start the year with them off on a good note. What else...I have a house leaders’ meeting tomorrow with the Archbishop and her advisor, I don’t know to what end exactly but no doubt it will be mostly admin and formalities. Apparently they usually have a vote among the students of each house in the week before class starts to pick a house leader, but for some reason they have chosen not to do that this year. And we must go for tea on Thursday in the gardens: don’t think I’ve forgotten your birthday, Hubert.”

“You are too kind, Lady Edelgard, as always. If I may ask, might you have any of your house blend with you? I attempted to purchase some at the market earlier but apparently the merchants have been delayed rather frequently in recent months.”

“I do, of course. You can’t think I’d have forgotten the one tea we can both agree on?” The two of them shared a small laugh – a restrained giggle from Edelgard, a vaguely sinister chuckle from Hubert – and continued on their way towards the dining hall. A flurry of thoughts and plans whirled in Edelgard’s mind, each slotted carefully into order as she and Hubert sketched out an itinerary for the next two weeks before the start of class, making sure to phrase things in a carefully vague manner whenever any passers-by looked like they were getting a bit too curious. She trusted Hubert to be absolutely discreet, but anyone else was a different matter altogether.

**

_The Prince_

“Well struck, Dedue! But you won’t get the better of me that easily!” Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd called out good-naturedly to his retainer as he readied himself for the next move in their training session. The power in Dedue’s strike had nearly caught Dimitri off balance, but he gripped his lance anew and went for a difficult manoeuvre he had seen one of the instructors use earlier to great effect. He used the tip of his lance to destabilise Dedue’s two-handed grip, then quick as a flash brought the butt of the lance around in a sweeping move to knock the axe out of his opponent’s hands altogether, before completing the circular swing by pointing the tip at Dedue’s neck. Another man might be flustered, or even resentful, to be caught on the wrong end of a showy move like that, but the dark-skinned man simply readjusted his short white ponytail, bowed his head and acknowledged Dimitri’s victory.

“Well done, Your Highness. Would you like another bout, or will this suffice for today?” Dedue asked as he retrieved his axe. Not impatiently, just a sincere request: Dimitri thought Dedue must have an endless reservoir of inner calm to remain so stoic and unruffled after a long training session. _Or at least,_ thought the prince of Faerghus, _he’s endlessly calm when he’s talking to me_.

“No, that’s alright, Dedue. I should probably get moving if I’m to meet the rest of our classmates, although from this list the only people I haven’t met before are Annette Dominic, Mercedes von Martritz and Ashe Ubert. What are your plans for the day, Dedue?”

“I should go with you to meet your classmates, Your Highness. Although I hesitate to bring damage to your reputation or theirs by associating them with a man of Duscur, it is important that I gain some familiarity with the other Blue Lions. After all, should any of them seek to do you harm, I must be aware of their capabilities if I am to act as your shield.” Dimitri sighed when he heard this, and turned around to where Dedue was putting his axe away.

“So serious, Dedue! I’m sure none of my classmates wish me harm: after all, Ingrid and Sylvain are two of my closest friends! Felix might be difficult, but I can’t imagine he’d truly want to kill me. And none of this talk about ‘ _my_ classmates’ and ‘damaging their reputation’, Dedue. They are your classmates too, and you are here as my friend and a student in your own right.” The older man inclined his head politely, although Dimitri could tell he didn’t really believe anything the prince had said.

“As you say, Your Highness. If I may say, your training regimen is intense, and I do not believe you have eaten much today. Might I suggest a detour to the dining hall? I have already eaten, so there is no need for me to attract insidious rumours to your side by dining with you.” Dimitri sighed again.

“Dedue, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t care what petty gossips have to say about me. If you truly don’t want to eat, then well and good. If you are refraining from doing so out of concern for my reputation, then please stop that at once. I cannot stop you from eating where and when you wish, but I do not want you to walk on eggshells around here for my sake.” The two men pushed open the ceiling-high doors to the training grounds and stepped out into the afternoon sun. Dedue, once again, listened attentively but chose to ignore much of what Dimitri had said.

“Very well, Your Highness. With your leave, I think I will visit the greenhouse. The daffodils should be coming into bloom, and the head gardener has given me permission to assist in tending them.” For someone else, a by-your-leave might have been a mere formality, but Dedue waited patiently for Dimitri to nod his assent before heading off through the dormitory area towards the greenhouse. The man was like a nursemaid, a bodyguard and a butler rolled into one, with none of the familiarity one might expect from a close servant. Dedue really considered himself a formal vassal to Dimitri as well, despite Dimitri’s repeated pleas to the Duscur man to think of him as a friend. He had acted more like a friend when they had first got to know each other, after Dimitri saved him from the spears of the mob four years ago, but over time had acquired the notion that it was improper to refer to the prince of Faerghus by anything but his royal title.

_Oh well,_ thought Dimitri, _at least he’s off to do something he enjoys_. The young prince walked off in the direction Dedue had gone, along the pathway beside the dormitories and up the staircase to the nobles’ rooms. His room was much the same as any of the others at Garreg Mach, with only a few personal possessions lying about to distinguish it from anyone else’s. By the dresser sat his riding boots, a good solid pair with the Crest of Blaiddyd embossed on the buckle, given to him by Rodrigue Fraldarius on his sixteenth birthday. He took a fresh Academy uniform from one of the drawers, removed his gauntlets and laid them on top of the clothes, then put them down for a moment and looked at himself in the mirror. He was tall and lithe, with straight blonde hair that parted in the middle and hung over the sides of his face, framing his pale complexion and equally pale blue eyes, what some called inheritances from his late father.

His father’s eyes had been the same colour, true, but Dimitri had never seen the coldness in Lambert’s eyes that he saw in his own. That was as much a legacy of his past as the scars on his back he got while protecting Dedue. The royal blue house leader’s cape he wore pinned to his breast hung down behind him, rumpled and damp with sweat from the training session, as was the black and silver uniform he wore, with armoured pauldrons and shinguards. He looked away from his reflection and glanced uneasily at the fresh sheets on his bed. _Maybe the voices won’t be as loud here as they were in Fhirdiad_ , he prayed halfheartedly, but he didn’t have much hope for that. In truth, he didn’t think they’d be quiet until he did what he had to do, until he exacted brutal revenge on those who had killed his father, those who had killed Glenn Fraldarius and all the other knights. But now was not the time for reminiscing and his revenge was, he had to admit, a task for another day. Today he had less momentous tasks to perform. Dimitri picked up the clothes again, left his room and descended the staircase on his way to the sauna. After he had freshened up, he would have his clothes laundered and write a notice arranging a meeting with the students of the Blue Lion House to get to know each other before classes began. One day he would have a country to lead: for now, he had to do his very best leading his fellow students.


	3. Chapter Two: A Series of Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three house leaders encounter each other at last, then have a discussion with Rhea and Seteth. Dimitri is surprised to see an old friend, and Edelgard prepares to meet the Black Eagles.

Tuesday, 15th day of the Great Tree Moon, Imperial Year 1180

Officers’ Academy, Garreg Mach Monastery

_The Princess_

Edelgard threw her cape back over her shoulder and brushed her snow-white hair back from her face as she entered the reception hall, both having been slightly disturbed by the windy weather outside on her walk from the dormitories. She had assured Hubert that he need not accompany her to the house leaders’ meeting, although truth be told she did not think he would have been admitted if she had requested his company. The Archbishop had offered no information as to what business would be discussed at this meeting, but Edelgard presumed it would be mainly formalities and admonitions concerning things she had either already done or was already planning on doing.

That aside, an opportunity to meet and size up the other two house leaders would be valuable, especially given who they were this year. Claude von Riegan, leader of the Golden Deer House and the so-called ‘Miracle Heir’ that secured House Riegan’s succession, was a complete mystery, so she needed to stay on her toes there. The Alliance was fractious and often plagued with infighting, but if Claude was a capable leader, he had all the pieces he needed there to forge a strong unified front. As for the other house leader, she didn’t think she’d ever met Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, crown prince of the Kingdom of Faerghus, but something about the name tugged at her memory. Regardless, she would have to get his measure as well: he was nearly of age to assume the throne in Fhirdiad, and despite its recent decline Faerghus was still a power to be reckoned with. _Another one to be wary of, then._

Edelgard climbed up a spiral staircase and found herself on the second floor of the monastery’s central building, the doors to Lady Rhea’s audience chamber in front of her, though they were closed at the moment. A few monks in their white tunics glided past or chatted quietly in the atrium, and the murmur of conversation made the place seem slightly less imposing. Edelgard contemplated the meeting ahead with a vague nervousness. She knew a lot more about the Archbishop and the Church than Lady Rhea knew about her, she was willing to bet, and it wouldn’t be easy to keep up the facade. But that is what she had to do, and so she would, for the sake of those faces locked in her dresser drawer, and for the future she hoped to create. After a brief while, the noise of a pair of boots on the staircase made her turn around to face the tanned young man who sauntered into the chamber. His voluminous black hair was casually pushed back, and he wore a small silver ring in his left ear. He smiled at Edelgard, though the expression never reached those sea-green eyes, and swept a bow that was just short of mocking in its flamboyance, flourishing his yellow house leader’s cape in the process.

“Your Royal Imperialness, I presume?” Edelgard nodded slowly and the stranger went on in a relaxed tone. “Claude von Riegan, pleased to meet you. Although I’m sure you already guessed that from the cape. You’re here for the meeting too, yeah? Bit of a drag, but what can you do. Hey, I’ve never seen white hair like that before on someone as young as you. What’s your story?” Claude was clearly trying very hard to present himself as being completely at ease, and Edelgard wondered what his intent was. She just managed to stop herself from bristling at his comment about her hair, and replied coolly.

“My appearance is none of your concern.” Claude shrugged and stretched, resting his hands behind his head.

“Fair enough, we’ve all got secrets. I assume you’ve whipped your Black Eagles into shape already then? I’m meeting the rest of the Golden Deer later today. From what I can tell, they’re an eclectic bunch, but don’t count me out in this mock battle, Princess!” He laughed and gave Edelgard another of those smiles. Evidently he was under the impression that he could slide into her good graces on the strength of smiles alone. _C_ _learly a man used to getting by on his charisma and good looks_. But the princess did not intend to let him pull the wool over her eyes so easily. She was living a life of plans upon plots upon schemes, and this Claude had the feel of a schemer about him: a novice compared to her, certainly, but she would do well to be wary. She gave him a guarded smile and acquiesced in his attempt to make conversation.

“Actually, I’m meeting my class today as well, though I’ve heard of one or two of the nobles from the diplomatic circuit. I’m sure it’s the same for you.” Claude chuckled again and feigned surprise.

“Whoa, you’ve stolen a march on me there, Princess! Nah, I was only legitimated last year, so I never really made the rounds like the other nobles. Still, I think it’s a good thing. Means I can come in fresh, without any dusty attitudes about nobles or commoners. Not that I’m calling you dusty, of course!” He gave her a grin and cast a casual eye around the atrium. “Speaking of dusty, though, they could do with freshening this place up a bit. I feel like I’ve stepped backwards through time.”

 _Another_ _joke_ , thought Edelgard. _I admit he’s amusing, but not nearly as much as he thinks. All an act, I’d say, but maybe I’m being too generous_. She smiled politely and readied another bland response. She could play this game all day long.

**

_The Prince_

Dimitri strode purposefully past the training grounds towards the reception hall, stopping only to let some travellers from abroad walk past him, inclining his head slightly as he did. Training had taken longer than anticipated this morning, and he wanted to make sure he wasn’t late for the meeting with Lady Rhea and the other two house leaders. It would be interesting to finally meet the leader of the Golden Deer House, Claude von Riegan, if only because nobody seemed to know anything about him. He had been born to a minor branch of the family, or so the story went, and was legitimated last year as the heir when it was discovered he had a Crest, no doubt to keep control of the Leicester Alliance out of the hands of Count Gloucester. As for the Black Eagle leader...well, Dimitri wasn’t quite sure how that would go. Edelgard von Hresvelg, his childhood friend in Fhirdiad for one happy year, was somehow the heir to the imperial throne, and would be at this meeting today.

 _How could she be the heir? She was the Emperor’s_ ninth _child!_ Dimitri thought to himself as he navigated the maze of stairways and corridors. Well, he wasn’t about to pry, because in such bizarre circumstances the causes could only be tragic. Truth be told, he didn’t even really know if Edelgard, or El as he had called her when they were small, would remember him. It felt like a lifetime ago for him, with all that had happened, and if tragedies on anything near as large a scale had befallen her, well he couldn’t blame her for forgetting. He would know her lilac eyes anywhere, but would she see the darkness in his? No matter. He was here to study, to learn, and to grow stronger. He would welcome the chance to reconnect with Edelgard if she too remembered their friendship, but if she didn’t, he was already kept up at night by far worse things than that. After this meeting, he had a formal get-together with the other Blue Lions. Dedue had provided food, and apparently he was quite a talented cook, not that Dimitri would be able to tell. He did worry about the man from Duscur and how the others would react to him, particularly Ingrid and Felix, but that wasn’t really anything he could control. He would get justice for the people of Duscur one day, but sadly Dedue would have to withstand the glares and whispers of the ignorant for a while before then.

 _Time to focus_ , he thought, snapping out of his reverie. He ascended a stone spiral staircase and stopped at the top of the stairs. Two students about his age, a man and a woman wearing yellow and red house leaders’ capes, chatted politely in front of the huge iron doors leading to the audience chamber. The man in yellow must be Riegan, if he was wearing that cape. But the woman... _was that white hair?_ Edelgard had had brown hair, so maybe it wasn’t her at all. Before he could continue that train of thought, however, the other two turned around and looked at him, obviously having heard his heavy tread on the stairs. Dimitri barely noticed the Golden Deer leader’s messy hair and tanned face: his eyes were locked on Edelgard, on her eyes. Those calm, _lilac_ eyes. It was her, alright. A series of memories flashed through his head – playing in the courtyard in Fhirdiad, the sadness in her eyes at leaving, her hands around his on the hilt of that dagger – before he managed to pull himself together.

“E-Edelgard?” he managed to stop himself from calling her ‘El’, but not quite soon enough, so that what came out sounded a bit like ‘Eddlegard’. Recovering, he offered her a bow, and did the same to the other man. “And you must be Claude, I presume. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, house leader of the Blue Lions. A good morning to you both.”

“Edelgard, actually. Von Hresvelg,” the princess replied, emphasising the first syllable. “But it’s certainly an improvement on ‘Your Royal Imperialness’”, she said with a pointed glance at Claude, before turning back to the prince, a questioning look in her eyes. “Have we met?” Dimitri managed to keep his face composed, but inside his heart sank just a little. _So she doesn’t remember,_ _or doesn’t want to acknowledge it_ _. Well, six years is a long time to remember a hasty oath sworn by children,_ _and I’m not going to make her or myself look a fool by bringing up old memories._

“My apologies, Edelgard. No, I don’t think so, but you resemble an old friend of mine,” he said, composed once more, and smiled. “I had thought my studies on the Empire were relatively thorough, but I confess that ‘Royal Imperialness’ is an honorific of which I was unaware.” _A weak joke, but anything to move past that disastrous opening._ Edelgard sighed, though he suspected it was directed more at Claude than at him.

“It isn’t, as Claude here well knows. I’d be careful how much rope you give him, or he’ll start calling you “Your Princeliness” or some such nonsense.” At that, Claude gave a wide grin and offered a flourishing bow to Dimitri.

“What an excellent idea, Princess! A fitting title for our strapping companion. I think I can see us all getting along famously already, Your Princeliness.” Dimitri didn’t really know how to respond to that, but Claude went on before he could come up with a retort. “By that clock, we should be in there by now. I wonder what’s taking the Archbishop?” As if on cue, the doors swung open slowly, bathing bathing the few feet before the door in light coming through a large stained-glass window directly opposite the three nobles. In front of that window stood the Archbishop: a tall woman wearing a white gown and a ceremonial golden headdress, with seafoam-coloured hair and a kindly smile. She beckoned the house leaders into the room, past thick marble columns, to where she stood in front of a large throne. Beside her was Seteth, her advisor, who Dimitri had already met to schedule this meeting. His straight green hair was the same colour as Claude’s eyes, and his beard vaguely reminiscent of Dimitri’s father, Lambert. He wore a dark blue tunic and trousers with gold trim, and crossed his arms as they approached, warily examining them each in turn. Lady Rhea was the first to speak, her hands resting calmly in her lap.

“Welcome, all of you. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today. I hope you have managed to settle into your dormitories at Garreg Mach and prepare yourselves for your studies and your responsibilities as house leaders. Seteth informs me that all three of you intend to meet your classmates this afternoon?” All three nodded, and the Archbishop smiled. “I am glad to hear it. The Officers’ Academy has a proud tradition of educating those from all walks of life, from commoners of the most modest means to you three, heirs to positions of immense power.” At this point, Edelgard raised a hand, and Lady Rhea motioned her to speak.

“Actually, Archbishop, I was wondering about that. The three of us will obviously have to bear the burden of command when we come of age, but isn’t there normally some sort of vote?” The thought occurred to Dimitri that Edelgard had given even this small detail some consideration. _She always seemed to be more grown-up than I, even back then_ , he mused. Lady Rhea smiled and answered the question.

“Thank you Edelgard, I was just coming to that. Conventionally, as you say, there would be a vote among your classmates. However, as the three of you are in the unique positions you are, I felt that it would be remiss of us not to ensure you were given an opportunity to refine your skills in command and leadership here at the Academy. Fear not, however, that your education shall be imbalanced: since each class will be led by one of our professors, you will have to learn to follow as well as to lead, and understand the balance between the two. On that subject, I hope to have your professors appointed by the 27th at the latest: Professor Merrilin’s unexpected departure last month has complicated matters somewhat, but I believe we have found a replacement in one of the Knights of Seiros.” She nodded to Seteth, who inclined his head to her and continued the explanation in his dry, slightly nasal voice.

“You will all be educated thoroughly in fields that best suit your talents, whether that be martial weaponry, the magics of faith and reason, riding, flying, or any number of combinations of these skills. You and your classmates may, of course, request to be trained in certain areas rather than others, and your professors will take that on board, but their word on your instruction is final. At the end of each month, each class will have a mission to complete to put their training into practice, sometimes accompanied by the Knights. This month’s mission is, as you know, the mock battle on the 30th. Do you have any questions so far?” Claude raised a hand slightly and Seteth motioned him to speak.

“You told us about the mock battle on the 30th, but I heard a couple of the Knights gossiping about some trial missions we’re getting on the 20th. What’s the deal with that?” The Golden Deer leader threw this out into the conversation as if it was no big deal, but Dimitri could see Seteth’s mouth tighten at the mention of the Knights, and even Rhea’s expression seemed to lose some of its warmth. _Whichever Knight that was will regret their loose tongue_ , the prince wagered to himself. Still looking displeased, Seteth replied.

“That was intended to be a surprise, as you can no doubt guess, so I would appreciate it if you would keep it to yourselves and not inform the other members of your houses. Rhea, since there seems no point in keeping it under wraps any longer...?” Seteth turned slightly to the Archbishop, who nodded, then picked up where he had left off.

“This Sunday, students from each house will be grouped together and sent on a small mission, to get you accustomed to some element of the missions you will undertake each month. Each group will consist of one student from each of the three houses, so as to try and encourage students to form bonds from those outside their own houses and, indeed, their own countries. As Seteth has said, the intention was for this to remain a surprise, so to keep some element of that intact I will ask you once again not to inform any other student in your house. I will not disclose the other groups now, but the three of you will constitute one group, as you will have to work together in various respects during the academic year. If students see you getting on well with each other, they will be more inclined to trust those from other houses as well. Are there any questions on that, or are we agreed?” The three nobles all moved to speak, but Claude got there first.

“Sounds great, Archbishop! I can’t wait to spend some quality time with my new best pals here.” He ignored Edelgard’s sharp look and Dimitri’s baffled one, and continued. “Unless, of course, they have any objections to working together?” _Well, he’s put us in a corner now_ , thought Dimitri. The prince in fact did not intend to object, but now it would look as though Claude’s suggestion of disunity was the reason for that. Nonetheless, he spoke up.

“Not a problem at all, Claude. It will be good to have an opportunity to get to know you both.” That was true, in a roundabout way: he had only just met Claude, and he wasn’t sure if he knew this version of Edelgard at all.

“I agree”, said Edelgard, “and I hope my classmates will get the chance to make some connections as well. If we are done here, Archbishop, I was hoping to meet with the other Black Eagles today to get everyone introduced. Will you excuse me?”

“Naturally, Edelgard. I am certain Dimitri and Claude have similar plans in mind.” The two young men nodded, and Rhea smiled. “Very good. Seteth will inform you if there are any changes, and the trial missions for Sunday will be posted on the noticeboards the day before. You may all take your leave, and welcome again to Garreg Mach.” As she finished, the doors swung open again, and the three nobles made their courtesies and left, Edelgard subtly ensuring she was ahead of Dimitri and Claude. _She must have scheduled that meeting for earlier than I did_ , thought the prince as Claude chatted away, and gave an internal shrug. _No matter._ It was time to face the Blue Lions: both the old faces and the new.

**

_The Princess_

_So that was the famous Lady Rhea_ , thought Edelgard as she descended the spiral staircase and walked through the high-ceilinged reception hall ahead of the duke’s son and the prince, passing by monks in white robes and knights in polished suits of plate. She was taking a roundabout route to the Black Eagle classroom so she could meet with Hubert on the way and update him about the meeting. _Sh_ _e_ _puts up a v_ _ery effective facade, though_ _she_ _would have to_ , she considered. Seteth was clearly suspicious of the three, but then so too would Hubert have been if it were Edelgard wearing the Archbishop’s headdress. Easily dismissed as an advisor and administrator, then, but given all she knew about Rhea, it was unlikely that she would appoint a mere pen-pusher as her closest advisor. Perhaps Seteth was more than he seemed, or perhaps there was someone else behind the scenes. She noticed Hubert, then, standing dead-straight in the entrance hall, who gave her a bow and walked over. She gave him her brief thoughts on Rhea and Seteth, and he considered for a moment and replied.

“Perceptive as usual, Lady Edelgard. We may have to keep an eye on the advisor as well. If I may ask, did you happen to learn anything about the other house leaders?” he said in his usual soft tones. She mulled the question over for a moment before answering.

“As expected, we should be wary of them both. Claude von Riegan clearly considers himself a charmer, and may believe he has taken me in. But there’s something lurking behind those eyes that I don’t trust”, Edelgard lowered her voice and continued, “I don’t think he’s playing the sort of game we’re playing, but he’s definitely up to something. The prince of Faerghus seems a solid, chivalrous character like so many Kingdom nobles, but when he saw me first he was clearly startled, and addressed me as though he had met me before, though he mispronounced my name and denied that we had met. I think there’s something going on there too, but he doesn’t seem to me like the type to concoct elaborate schemes. I’m not sure what to make of him,” she confessed, remembering the encounter again. _I_ _t wasn’t_ _just_ _that he had_ _mispronounced her name, it was the way he said it: ridiculous though it seemed, it_ _had_ _sounded as though he_ _was_ _about to call her by a shorter name, the name only her father used now._ She dismissed the thought as a flight of fancy, however. _There’s no way that could be the case, and anyway I can’t waste time on such unimportant matters._ Hubert listened attentively, and then nodded.

“Interesting. I will be sure to keep an eye on them, particularly this Claude von Riegan. Is there a chance you could have met the prince during your time in Faerghus? I was never made privy to the details of your location, for obvious reasons, and everything escalated so much when you returned that it seemed unimportant.” Edelgard thought about it for a moment, and shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so. At least I don’t remember if I did.” She remembered something, and continued speaking. “Oh, that reminds me. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but the Archbishop is organising some trial missions for each class on Sunday in advance of the mock battle. Three students per group, one from each house. I’m with the other two house leaders: they wouldn’t tell us the composition of the other groups or what we’ll be doing. I know you’ll keep this under wraps, but I thought I should tell you so that you can work it around any other commitments.” They both knew what those last few words meant. Hubert nodded.

“Thank you for informing me, Lady Edelgard. Hopefully this will provide an opportunity for you to learn some more about those two, and I can do some intelligence gathering of my own.”

Edelgard nodded, and they walked in silence for a minute or two as they neared the Black Eagle classroom. The door was closed, but she could hear the occasional murmur of conversation from within as she and Hubert approached. She squared her shoulders and adjusted her cape and uniform. They did not know it yet, but she would one day lead these people to war. If, that is, they would follow her. Among her many tasks at Garreg Mach, from the ordinary to the distasteful, it was important that she gain the trust of her fellow Black Eagles so that when the time came, she had a capable team behind her with which to wage her war for the truth, and the future of Fódlan. She took a deep breath, then Hubert opened the door for her and she walked in to meet the Black Eagles for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: our cast expands beyond five students! Might take a little while to post chapter 3 as I'm going away for a couple of days this weekend. Stay safe and wear masks everybody!


	4. Chapter Three: First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At different times on the same afternoon, Dimitri meets the Blue Lions, and Edelgard meets the Black Eagles.

Tuesday, 15th day of the Great Tree Moon

Officers’ Academy, Garreg Mach Monastery

_The Prince_

Dimitri was pleased with how the meeting with his classmates was going so far. He had met Dedue en route to pick up the food, and by the time they reached the classroom he was feeling confident about how it would go. He thought his opening address to the class had gone over well: of course Felix scoffed and muttered that damnable nickname under his breath, but Ingrid, Sylvain and Dedue were loyally attentive and the other three – Ashe, Mercedes and Annette – seemed happy with his vision for the class. Everyone had started tucking into the food at this point, and already little groups were starting to form. Felix made a great show of eating by himself, but nearby Ingrid was scolding Sylvain for making an advance on one of the monks, and Dimitri could see the Fraldarius heir quirk his ears up every now and again when Ingrid’s lecture got particularly colourful. Annette and Mercedes were chatting away amiably – _those two must know each other from before today_ , thought the prince – and Ashe was enthusiastically talking to a stoic Dedue about something or other. Dimitri felt it was past time for him to start getting to know his classmates properly, and walked up to Ashe and Dedue. At his approach, the freckled boy gulped down a mouthful of Dedue’s stew and made a hasty bow.

“Y-your Highness! I’m sorry, I was hogging the food, wasn’t I? I’ll get out of the way now-” Dimitri cut him off with what he hoped was a warm smile.

“Ashe, isn’t it? Please, there’s no need to make way for me! I am not the King just yet, and we can’t really be bowing and scraping to our fellow classmates, can we? Just call me Dimitri.”

“Oh! Oh, of course, Your Highne-I mean, Dimitri! Sorry, it’s gonna take me some time to get used to that.” Ashe said with a nervous laugh, stepping back toward the food, then back away from it, so that he ended somewhat awkwardly in the middle. “This food is delicious, isn’t it? Dedue’s being really modest about it, but I’ve never had fish melt in my mouth like this before!” Dedue gave a strangled cough, but Dimitri cut him off before he could start self-deprecating.

“I’ve never tried Dedue’s cooking myself, but from the look on your face I can see it’s made an impression – no, Dedue, I forbid you from talking down your talents.” The man from Duscur had been about to interrupt, but at Dimitri’s objection he smoothed his face and fell silent. “May I ask, Ashe, where are you from? I don’t think I’ve seen your face before today.”

“Oh you wouldn’t have, Your Highn-uh, Dimitri,” Ashe said, now having picked up a fresh bowl of stew, “I was born a commoner, but Lord Lonato of Gaspard adopted me and my siblings when I was younger and took us to live with him. Lord Lonato’s the only reason I was able to come here and finally learn how to become a knight!” The boy’s eyes shone with undisguised passion, and Dimitri smiled. Surprisingly, Dedue broke in.

“You must feel great gratitude toward him for taking you in.” The man from Duscur said in considered tones, and Ashe nodded.

“Absolutely. If it weren’t for him, I really don’t know where I’d be. I wouldn’t even know how to read without Lord Lonato! How did you say you prepared this again? I can’t believe you’re not a trained chef!” Dedue reddened slightly and started to answer, and Dimitri took the opportunity to let them carry on their conversation without him. _It’s good to see Dedue making friends, and Ashe seems like_ _he won’t judge Dedue for where he comes from_ , thought the prince as he moved on to mingle with his other classmates. He decided to let Ingrid lecture Sylvain for a while longer – she had moved on to a new topic, this one apparently concerning an encounter with one of the merchants – and walked over to Annette and Mercedes.

“May I join? Annette and Mercedes, correct?” He inclined his head, and they made space for him by one of the desks. Annette was the first to reply.

“Of course, Your Highness! Mercie and I were just talking about what we’re going to specialise in when classes start. What do you think you want to learn about?” The two neat ringlets in her ginger hair bounced as she spoke. Mercedes chimed in in a calm lilting tone that matched her serene smile.

“Yes, actually we both went to the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad before we came here, although Annie prefers reason-based magic. I find white magic easier to get to grips with, and it’s so nice to be able to help people.”

“Yes, I thought you two looked like you might have met before. Magic isn’t my strong suit, I’m afraid, but I’ve heard the School is excellent: we always used to pass by it on the way out of Fhirdiad. I suppose I’ll have to see what our professor says when they’re assigned, but I’ve always favoured the lance. Magic seems like very delicate work,” he was saying, when the chair he was leaning on creaked alarmingly and he quickly eased his grip on it, “and as you can see, sometimes I really don’t know my own strength.” He blushed a little, embarrassed that he hadn’t even noticed how much pressure he was putting on the chair. _At least I didn’t break it this time_ , he thought, and the girls giggled.

“Well, if you ever do yourself an injury, don’t hesitate to ask me to patch it up”, laughed Mercedes, and took a sip of her tea. Annette put down her plate and glanced over at Dimitri’s three childhood friends.

“Ingrid sure seems to be giving him an earful, huh? What’d he do?” she asked, and Dimitri suppressed a sigh.

“Oh, knowing Sylvain, she’s in the right about whatever it is. I’ve known Ingrid, Sylvain and Felix – the blue-haired one next to Ingrid – since we were all children, and if it is possible to be a womaniser at eight years old, that was Sylvain. I’ve tried to convince him to stop, but from the look on Ingrid’s face I don’t think he’s got any better since we were young.” Annette’s eyes widened at that.

“Well, he’s certainly brave to keep at it if she shouts at him like that every time.” Her expression grew thoughtful, and she turned to Dimitri. “Your Highness, you trained with my father, didn’t you? Gustave? He was a knight in the royal guard.” Dimitri could have kicked himself. _How did I not_ _remember_ _? They have exactly the same hair, and the same eyes, and they’re both from Fhirdiad!_

“Yes, in fact I did. Gustave was one of my favourite instructors, though he was quite strict. I hope you will forgive me for my surprise: I knew Gustave had a daughter, but I had completely forgotten your name until you reminded me of the connection just then.” Annette smiled, though there was something unreadable in her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, Your Highness! I think I’ll get some more food if you want to join me? Mercie, do you want to come too?” Mercedes nodded and wandered off in the direction of the baked goods.

“I would love to have some, but I think I should try to make peace over there first.” He motioned in the direction of Ingrid and Sylvain: they were no longer arguing, but he could see a welt on Sylvain’s arm that could only have come from Ingrid. “It was good to finally meet you, though, Annette.”

“You too, Your Highness! I think the year will go great.” With that, Annette moved away with alacrity, apparently to prevent Mercedes from eating the last of the pastries, leaving Dimitri to go and talk to his childhood friends. At his approach, the three gave the exact responses he was expecting: Ingrid bowed, Sylvain waved him over, and Felix jeered.

“So the boar’s finally come around to talk to us. Must be nice, meeting people who have no idea what you’re really like.” Ingrid whipped her head around and glared at him, and he went back to his food.

“Felix, I’ve told you before not to use that horrible name. How are you, Your Highness? This food is amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yes, so I’ve heard. Dedue made it, you know.” Dimitri replied, and he did not miss the grimace, quickly masked, on Ingrid’s face at the mention of his retainer’s name. “I take it you haven’t been behaving yourself, Sylvain?” The red-haired noble grinned, and Ingrid grimaced again.

“He certainly has not.” she said, irritated. “We only arrived today, and already he’s made a pass at a merchant in the town square _and_ one of the monks. A _monk_ , Sylvain!” Sylvain shrugged nonchalantly and stretched.

“Look, Ingrid, I can’t help it if I’m irresistible, can I? I know how much you value chivalry, and it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me to see a beautiful woman and fail to remind her of her beauty, now would it?” Sylvain smirked, and Ingrid was clearly incensed, anger showing clearly in her light green eyes.

“Being a knight is _certainly_ not about _flirting_ , and-ugh, forget it. You’re impossible. I hope fervently that we don’t have a female professor, because you’ll get even less work done than you usually do.” At this, Felix spoke up, though he did not raise his eyes from his meal.

“The only thing that matters about our professor is that they’re strong. If they’re not, they’ll be a useless teacher. I’m tired of sparring against my household knights and the training instructors. Speaking of, you’re training with me tomorrow, boar.” Dimitri sighed. _He really does know how to make an invitation sound like a mixture of a threat and an accusation, doesn’t he_ , thought the prince. He said as much, and Felix sneered.

“Please. As if I’m the aggressive one here. You’d better hope the professor isn’t too smart; not everyone is taken in by your polite facade.” Dimitri decided to leave it at that. _No point in antagonising him, and he is a good training partner, even if he isn’t much of a friend anymore_ , he admitted to himself.

“Whoever is appointed as our professor, I’m sure we will all have a lot to learn from them. Hopefully they can give us the edge in this mock battle at the end of the month. I’ve met the other house leaders and they seem competent, so we’ll have our work cut out for us: that Claude in particular is truly something else.” Sylvain shrugged.

“Whatever you say, Your Highness. I’m sure we’ll meet some of them in the days to come. Maybe there’ll even be some cute girls in the other houses.” Ingrid sighed, and the red-haired youth gave her another of those mischievous grins. Dimitri rolled his eyes.

“Honestly, Sylvain. You are unlikely to garner much respect around here if you go mooning over every woman in the monastery. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to have some of this food: apparently it’s quite delicious.” Ingrid bowed again, and Felix looked away from Dimitri so pointedly that it was clear he was trying not to look at him on purpose. _A battle for another day_ , thought the prince. Still, all was going as well as could be expected so far. There were a couple of cliques, certainly, but hopefully their professor would recognise that and do their best to diversify the group while on missions and in class. The prince took a bowl of stew and some crusty bread and complimented Dedue on his efforts, though in truth he could not taste a thing. He didn’t mind too much: the gathering was going well, and Dimitri thought that Annette could well be right: it would be a good year. He gave a genuine smile as he leaned against the doorframe of the classroom, watching the other Blue Lions get to know each other.

**

_The Princess_

The Black Eagle class this year were an eclectic bunch, thought Edelgard as she sipped her tea. All the same, they mostly seemed good at heart. Hubert had certainly been right about Dorothea: she certainly had something special about her, a charm that drew you in and made you feel welcomed: even if it was just an act, the low-born Mystical Songstress knew how to mingle and socialise better than many nobles. She also seemed to share Edelgard’s irritation for Ferdinand – the “legitimate son of the Aegir family, the Empire’s foremost house”, as he had proclaimed several times already – if what the princess could interpret from Dorothea’s subtle jabs at the oblivious boy’s inflated ego was correct. Ferdinand seemed to see everything as a competition, particularly between himself and Edelgard, and she privately concurred in Hubert’s assessment of him as tiresome. Snapping out of her musings, she noticed the Aegir heir was still talking to her.

“Well, I assume you know the rest of the tale of my ancestor Derick, Edelgard. A story for the ages, after all! What say we emulate our ancestors and have a little duel ourselves?” Edelgard sighed. No matter what she said, she knew she wasn’t hearing the last of this.

“Ferdinand, I’m not going to give up my inheritance, or my position as house leader, if that’s what you’re angling for. Nor do I have time for petty duels right now. If you want to gauge my strength, you can observe it in the mock battle.” Ferdinand brushed back one of his marmalade curls and smiled a cocky smile.

“No matter: a duel is not a duel if only one party is willing. I will do as you say, Edelgard, but make sure you keep your eye on me as well! We Aegirs are a formidable house for a reason.” With a smile and a flourishing bow, he walked away to get some more food, and Edelgard had to stop herself from grinding her teeth. She knew exactly the reasons why Aegir was a powerful house: scheming, backstabbing and plotting. She couldn’t say that, however, so she would just have to hope Ferdinand gave up eventually. Scanning the room, she could see her classmates had formed a few small groups: Hubert was talking to the Brigid princess, Petra, and the Hevring and Bergliez sons, Linhardt and Caspar, were standing by the blackboard, though by Linhardt’s expression Caspar was carrying most of the conversation. Dorothea was sitting on a desk, trying to engage Bernadetta von Varley in conversation, though it did not appear as though she was having much success. _Perhaps I’d better help her out_ , thought the princess, placing a couple extra pastries on her plate before she walked over to Bernadetta and the songstress. At her approach, Bernadetta practically jumped out of her seat, and made a hasty bow.

“Y-your Highness! I’m sorry, I was getting in the way, wasn’t I? Stupid Bernie! I’ll leave you now and go back to my room, don’t worry!” Edelgard placed a hand on the grey-eyed girl’s shoulder and felt her tense up in fear. Ignoring Bernadetta’s tiny squeak at the contact, Edelgard replied in what she hoped was a reassuring tone.

“Calm yourself, Bernadetta. You weren’t getting in the way, in fact I came over here to talk to you and Dorothea. There’s no need to leave, honestly. Would you like a pastry?” Bernadetta nervously sat back down and gingerly took an apple strudel from the plate as if she expected it to come to life at any moment and bite her hand. Dorothea gave Edelgard a warm, approving smile and patted the seat next to her.

“Sit down, Edie. We were just talking about music: you know my background, and Bernie has an interest in singing as well. Do you ever sing?” Edelgard took a seat and shook her head.

“No, I never really had any talent in that area. Although I do remember seeing the Mittelfrank Opera Company perform in Enbarr once, when I was younger. You were a member of the Company, weren’t you?” Dorothea smiled and a gleam of enthusiasm lit up her eyes.

“I was! I was a soprano with the Mittelfrank Company for a good few years before coming here, although it took me a while to get cast in any leading roles. Bernie here sings sometimes, don’t you?” Bernadetta looked up, startled, a shocked expression on her face.

“Dorothea, you said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” She sighed and hung her head a little. “I suppose it’s alright if Lady Edelgard knows...yes, I do sing sometimes. Mostly in my room, though the greenhouse here is nice when there’s nobody around, so I sing there sometimes as well. Please don’t tell anybody though!” Edelgard smiled and sipped her tea.

“Don’t worry, Bernadetta, I won’t tell. It’s nice to have hobbies, and you shouldn’t feel ashamed of them, but I understand how you feel. Sometimes people prefer to keep things private.” Bernadetta gave a grateful nod and went back to eating her pastry. “By the way, there’s really no need to jump whenever you see Hubert. I know he looks a little sinister, but he’s really not once you get to know him.” _Or no more so than anyone else, anyway_ , Edelgard thought. Bernadetta grimaced.

“I-I’ll try, Lady Edelgard. But you won’t convince me he’s not some kind of vampire! The way he stalks around with that deathly grin on his face...” she gave a visible shudder and seemed to shrink even further into herself.

“I promise you, he’s really not. Speaking of Hubert, though, I should go and talk to him and Petra. Thank you both for your company, and please enjoy the rest of the afternoon.” Edelgard nodded to the pair and went to join her retainer and the Brigid princess, apparently engaged in an animated discussion. As she approached, Hubert gave a smooth bow, while Petra smiled and did the same. The tan girl, her maroon hair in an intricate braid, was the first to speak.

“Hello! You must be the Lady Edelgard that Hubert has been talking of. I am Petra. Happiness is upon me...no, I am happy to meet you.” Hubert was holding a book, and showed the title to Edelgard: ‘Fódlan: A Chronicle’.

“As you can see, Lady Edelgard, Petra and I have been engaged in a most interesting discussion about the history of Fódlan: she is a keen reader, and you know the subject is dear to my heart. She is most interested in the history of the Empire, and who better to enlighten her on the subject than your noble self?” Hubert gave a courteous smile, and Edelgard turned to Petra.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Petra. I’m afraid the early years of the Empire are shrouded in a great deal of mystery, but I’m sure I can give you the rough outlines of it sometime. Was your journey from Gerth pleasant? You must be used to the climate of Fódlan by now, but I’m afraid the Oghma Mountains are a poor substitute for a spring in Brigid.”

“My journey from Gerth was well, Lady Edelgard. It is more hot in Brigid at this time, but I am taking enjoyment...no, I am enjoying the fresh air here. Please, take my excuses. I can write and read the language of Fódlan well, but it is difficult for me to be speaking it.” Edelgard finished her tea and gave Petra a friendly smile.

“There is no need to worry, Petra. After all, neither Hubert nor I can speak much of the Brigid tongue beyond basic greetings, so I admire your diligence in acquiring the language so well in only four years.” Petra smiled and bowed again.

“Thank you, Lady Edelgard. I am looking forward to learning much more about Fódlan this year. Do you have knowledge about our professor?”

“No, I’m afraid not. The Archbishop said they’re making the assignments shortly before the mock battle.” Edelgard shook her head. “Though how we’re supposed to get anything done in that short a time I don’t know.”

“The Church certainly likes keeping its secrets” Hubert mused, with a knowing look at Edelgard. He turned his gaze then in the direction of the blackboard, which Caspar appeared to have toppled over. “Your attention may be required elsewhere, Lady Edelgard. Unless you wish me to make the problem disappear?” He gave another of those sinister smiles, and Edelgard rolled her eyes.

“There’s no need to make anything disappear, Hubert. I should go over and talk to Caspar and Linhardt, though. My apologies, Petra, but I’m sure there will be plenty of time to speak later. _Slán leat_.” The Brigid phrase sounded awkward on her tongue, but Petra seemed delighted that she had made the effort.

“ _Slán leatsa freisin_ , Lady Edelgard. Safety be with you as well!” Edelgard smiled and turned away, towards Caspar and Linhardt. _She seems like a pleasant companion, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s as diligent about training as she is with her linguistic efforts_ , thought the princess. At the front of the room, a short, blue-haired boy – Caspar – was heaving the blackboard back into place, while his pale companion looked on with a mixture of amusement and irritation.

“What’s going on here?” Caspar started at Edelgard’s inquiring tone, almost dropping the blackboard again, but Linhardt just yawned.

“Caspar was demonstrating how he would take down an opponent taller than him in a fight, and unfortunately the blackboard happened to be rather close by. You’re Edelgard, correct?” She nodded.

“Yes, and I presume I’m looking at Linhardt and Caspar. How have you been settling in?” The green-haired youth yawned again before answering – _quite rude_ , thought the princess.

“Well enough. The library is fascinating, though everywhere takes so many flights of stairs to get to that sometimes it’s not worth the effort.” Caspar had righted the blackboard at this point and chimed in enthusiastically.

“I’m loving it here! Food, training and some great views: what more could you want? I sure hope we get a good professor, though, maybe one of the Knights of Seiros. Those guys are strong as hell, if we have one of them on our side, we’ll definitely win this mock battle!” Caspar was perhaps the loudest person Edelgard had ever met, but he appeared to wear his heart on his sleeve, in contrast to the languorous, bored-seeming Linhardt.

“I’m afraid I have no idea who our professor will be, and I’d imagine we won’t find out until the end of next week.” A thought occurred to her, and she continued speaking. “I fully intend for us to win the mock battle either way, however, so everyone will have to put in some training over the next two weeks.” At that, Caspar cheered and pumped his fist, while Linhardt sighed in dismay. _Well, no point in just saying it to these two_ , thought Edelgard. She got up on the large oak professor’s desk behind her and Caspar and addressed the Black Eagles. Her classmates looked up in surprise as she spoke.

“Listen up, Black Eagles! Thank you all for coming here today, and I hope we forge close bonds as a class in the year ahead. We may come from different backgrounds,” her eyes met those of Dorothea and Petra and she continued, “but we are united as a class and in my position as house leader I will do everything I can to lead the Black Eagle House to victory, both in this mock battle and in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. I hope that you will consider me, and each of your classmates, a trusted companion and friend by the time the year is out. I will draw up a training rota for the next couple of weeks to make sure everyone is in shape for the mock battle, so no matter who our professor is, we will not lose!” She looked around: they were not entirely enraptured, but she could see that they were beginning to believe in her. _Good enough for now_ , she thought, and nodded. “Please enjoy the rest of the refreshments and keep an eye on the noticeboard outside the classroom, I’ll put up a note about training soon. Have a good day, and don’t be shy if you have anything you need to discuss with me.” With that, the princess climbed down from the table to cautious applause (more fervent from Hubert, of course) and a few cheers, mostly from Caspar. The rest of the afternoon would be spent doing some more mingling, and then she and her vassal had some matters to attend to in the evening. Edelgard was pleased. Her classmates could be a lot worse to get on with, Ferdinand aside, and she had a feeling they would prove talented as well. _And they will be loyal to me_ , she thought _, not to Rhea or whatever sorry excuse for a teacher she hires_. A gratifying thought, to be sure, but it was a long road ahead yet. Taking up her cup of tea once more and bouncing from conversation to conversation, Edelgard von Hresvelg got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again! Turns out I find it harder to do little soundbites of dialogue between many characters as opposed to just a few, so this was a bit difficult to write as a result, but hopefully it's enjoyable to read.
> 
> On Petra: I find the way the game writes her Fódlanese annoying, because the mistakes she makes aren't actually consistent with being used to a different grammar, and she has perfect pronunciation. I can't do much about the latter, but for the former I've decided to model her grammatical habits on the Irish language, because of the Brigid/Ireland mythological connection (yes I know the same applies for Dagda but still). Scottish Gaelic would probably be a better fit - to me, "Macneary" with no capital N says Scottish rather than Irish, though I'm no linguist - but I don't speak any and I do speak some Irish, so that's what we're going with there.
> 
> You can see this in the mistakes she makes: in the Irish language, most feelings are "on" or "upon" you rather than being something you "have" or "are". Similarly, the phrase "I enjoyed it" in Irish can either be "Thaitin sé liom" (Literally "Enjoyed it with me" or "I enjoyed with it") or "Bhain mé sult as" (Literally "I took enjoyment/delight from it"). I won't do one of these notes every time Petra has dialogue, but I just thought I'd clarify that there is actually a system in place here.


	5. Chapter Four: Trying to Get Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several different tea dates converge unexpectedly, Dedue makes some mistakes, and Claude and Hilda discuss a proposal.

Thursday, 17th day of the Great Tree Moon

Officers’ Academy, Garreg Mach Monastery

_The Outsider_

Claude von Riegan leant back in the white wooden chair and rested his feet on the small circular table in the Monastery’s tea gardens, waiting for Hilda to arrive and enjoying the spring breeze and the fresh air after a night spent in the library. He was looking forward to this meeting, truth be told, and not just because Hilda was good company. Rumours had come to him on the breeze – well, strictly speaking he had paid some of the urchins of the Monastery to listen at doors for him, and made some deductions based on what they reported, but it was a good metaphor for this pleasant Thursday afternoon – and he looked forward to seeing if his plans came to fruition. If not, no big deal: Claude always had another plan. Hilda was a component of another strategy he had in mind, though she might not know it yet: she was clever and competent despite pretending otherwise, and if he was going to bring the rag-tag group of students in the Golden Deer House together as a group, he needed a dependable second. _Besides, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince Ms Goneril to get to know the others if it means she can offload some of her work onto them_ , he thought, and chuckled. He hadn’t got a read on everyone just yet – they had only had their house meeting on Tuesday, after all – but he thought he had her measure enough to exploit her laziness for this plan. He heard footsteps and turned his head to look, but the girl walking purposefully into the gardens with a small ornate box under her arm was not Hilda Valentine Goneril. He grinned with satisfaction, and made the best bow he could without falling off his chair.

“Afternoon, Princess! Lovely day for some tea, isn’t it?” Edelgard started just slightly when she saw him, but she quickly regained her composure and placed the red lacquered box on another table, not as far away from Claude as it was possible to get but still definitely not close to him.

“Good afternoon, Claude. What a coincidence to see you here.” Her tone belied that she suspected it was no coincidence at all, but he wasn’t going to give up the game just like that. “I see you are waiting for someone?” she said, indicating to the cake stand – piled high with pastries and eclairs – and the two empty teacups on Claude’s table. He gave an exaggerated shrug and grinned again.

“You’ve caught me in the act, Your Royal Imperialness! Just a casual one-on-one chat with one of my wonderful Golden Deer. How about you? I’ve seen you and your classmates in the training grounds more often these last couple of days, taking it easy this afternoon?” Edelgard sat down at her table, brushing those strange white locks out of her eyes, and fixed Claude with an evaluating gaze.

“You could say that. It’s Hubert’s birthday, and I’m having tea with him to celebrate. Who are you meeting?”

“Hilda Goneril. You know her?” He winked. “Seems like a sweet girl, so I brought some sweet things along with me”, he said, indicating the pastries. _Let her think I’m crushing on Hilda_ , Claude thought. It would be a good way to appear harmless, to seem like just your average teenage noble. His thoughts (and Edelgard’s response) were interrupted, however, by the sound of two students conversing as they rounded the corner into the tea gardens. Both were tall, one with blond hair and a pale complexion, the other dark-skinned with white hair tied into a short ponytail: the prince of Faerghus, and the retainer Claude had rarely seen him without. Dimitri was the first to speak: he looked surprised, but recovered quickly.

“Claude, Edelgard. What a surprise to see you both here. Are you taking tea together? Dedue and I were just taking a break after training.” Claude piped up before Edelgard could issue a cutting denial.

“Your Princeliness! What a pleasant surprise. No, don’t worry, I’m not courting Edelgard, I’m just waiting on a friend. By an astounding coincidence, so is our Princess here. And look, here come both of our companions, it seems.” Hubert and Hilda came around the other corner, the sinister vassal and cheerful pink-haired noble doing their best to keep their distance from one another. Hubert bowed to Edelgard, but grimaced at the sight of the other students, reserving a particularly nasty glare for Claude.

“You would do well to speak less casually to Lady Edelgard, Riegan. What are you doing here?” Claude raised up his hands in a mocking defence of himself and waved to Hilda, who waved back despite looking somewhat uneasy at the sudden tension in the air.

“A pleasure to meet you at last, Hubert. I’ve heard such good things. As for what I’m doing here, I’m just taking tea with my good friend Hilda! Unless of course yourself and Her Royal Imperialness wish to join us?” Claude turned to Dimitri and Dedue as Hubert’s face darkened and continued, “Of course, I’d be delighted to have company from the prince and his retainer as well, if you’d care to take a seat?” It was a gamble, but not a particularly consequential one. No matter what the prince and princess said, Claude couldn’t come off poorly: whether or not they accepted his friendly invitation, in Hilda he had a neutral witness that would see it as just that: a friendly invitation. Moreover, it would be interesting to observe the dynamic between Dimitri and Edelgard: he would have to deal with them here at the Academy and in the future when he led the Leicester Alliance, so it would be good to discern whether their leadership styles were such that they would not hamper his dream of unity. Dimitri’s answer broke Claude out of his reverie.

“Dedue and I would be delighted to have some tea with you and Hilda, Claude.” The prince nodded to Claude, and gave a courteous bow to Hilda, who by this point had come over and sat down in the seat next to her house leader. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. Hilda, is it?” continued the prince, and he and the pink-haired student exchanged introductions. Edelgard appeared conflicted, but with a quiet word to Hubert, the princess and her vassal took seats on opposing sides of the table, such that Claude could not look at both of them at the same time. As she settled herself down, Claude would never have guessed that Edelgard had any plans other than to join them if he did not know otherwise: she made it seem as though that was what she had intended all along. Smiling, he took a plate off the cake stand and passed it around the table, offering his new companions pastries as they took their places. _I can dance just as well as you, Princess_ , he thought, _but what matters is who_ _calls_ _the tune_. Above, a flock of doves flew out of the tallest tower of the monastery as the church bells rang to announce the hour.

**

_The_ _Stalwart_ _Shield_

Accompanied by Dimitri, Dedue carefully carried the cake stand back to the monastery kitchens. They had offered to clean up, or rather Dedue had, but the prince insisted on helping him. The two Black Eagles evidently considered it above them, Hilda had a talent for getting out of work that was notorious even after only a couple of days at the Academy, and Claude was...slippery. It had been a pleasant afternoon, and His Highness had seemed to enjoy talking to Hilda and Claude, at the least. _I must be wary of all of them, but especially that Hubert_ , thought Dedue as he laid the cake stand down on one of the worktops. _A dangerous man, with ill-concealed distaste for His Highness_. Next to him, Dimitri put down his own burdens rather suddenly and sighed.

“Well, that was interesting. A little awkward, but it’s important to get to know students from the other houses as well as our own. What did you think, Dedue?”

“I agree. The conversation was not unpleasant, and it provided a good opportunity to assess the other house leaders and their companions. I would advise you to be wary of Hubert, Your Highness. There is a sinister gleam in his eye that I am not certain is entirely feigned.”

“For once I concur with your over-protectiveness, Dedue. He certainly gives off the impression that he would do anything to protect Edelgard. But then, the same is true of you in relation to me, is it not?” Dedue’s mouth twisted in distaste, though he could not entirely deny the comparison.

“It is, Your Highness, though I do not agree completely. I prefer to think of myself as your shield, my purpose being to guard and protect you. Hubert appears as though he would favour a more...proactive approach to protecting Edelgard.” Dimitri nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, I suppose you are right. Although I have said before that I would rather you consider yourself my friend, rather than simply as a shield, it doesn’t appear as though I am likely to change your mind on that front anytime soon.” The prince looked resigned to the fact, and internally Dedue was conflicted. He _did_ want to be Dimitri’s friend, but His Highness could not see that the time was not right for that, if it ever would be. He had a duty to the prince to protect his life, both in payment for the life debt he owed Dimitri, and in the hope that when Dimitri took the throne he would achieve justice for Dedue’s people and the land of Duscur. _For now I must be his sword and shield, to fight in his name and protect him with my life_ , thought the man of Duscur as he and his liege walked through the grounds, _and perhaps in a future where things are different, I can be his friend as well_. _But not right now_. Dimitri’s voice cut into his thoughts, and he stood up straighter.

“Dedue, I’m going to go and train with Ingrid for a while. We haven’t talked in too long a time, and I need to keep my skills honed for this mock battle.” As Dimitri spoke, Dedue went instinctively to follow him.

“Is there any way I can be of assistance, Your Highness?” Dimitri shook his head.

“No, Dedue. I appreciate your company, but I don’t need to be nursemaided at every training session. I promise that I will let you know if I sustain an injury.” Dedue nodded.

“As you say, Your Highness. I will meet you afterwards outside the training grounds.” It wasn’t really a question, though Dedue saw nothing improper in it: Dimitri’s servants had passed on some tips to him once he managed to persuade them to teach him how best to serve the prince, and a key feature in a relationship with any close servant was a certain element of paternalism. If Dimitri ordered Dedue to stay away, he would, but he would have to make the order anew for each occasion Dedue saw fit to aid His Highness. The retainer knew by now that his prince would balk at doing so, considering it rudeness, as absurd as it seemed to Dedue for the crown prince of Faerghus to fret over being rude towards the son of a blacksmith from Duscur: certainly no other noble would restrain himself so. _But His Highness is not like other nobles, else he would not have risked his life for me when his countrymen tried to run me down_ , Dedue reminded himself. _He is not like other nobles, else I would not serve him_ _as I do_.

“Very well, Dedue. We will dine together tonight, but until then, please enjoy your afternoon.” Dimitri said, then headed off in the direction of the training grounds. Dedue watched the prince go until he disappeared from sight, then took a deep breath and let his muscles relax a little. He was always tense when the prince was out of his sight and outside the scope of his protection, but he had an open invitation from the head gardener, Selena, to come and help out in the greenhouse whenever he felt like it, and taking care of the plants would help to ease his mind. With that pleasing thought, he walked off toward the little palace of calm that sheltered the plants and crops Garreg Mach grew for itself. Opening the door, he stepped through and took an apron from the wall. None of the gardeners appeared to be present, so Dedue took it upon himself to check the crop maintenance register pinned up on the inside of the door. Nothing had been watered or pruned yet today: perhaps Selena had taken the day off. _No matter_ , thought the retainer, as he filled up a large watering can and got to work.

Moving gradually along the row, his mind began to ease, until he saw something he did not expect to when watering a couple of parched-looking rhododendrons on the corner of one of the aisles in the greenhouse. _Is that...a boot?_ Dedue thought, and went over to investigate. As he moved closer, it became clear that it wasn’t just a boot: the boot was attached to a leg, and the leg was attached to a whole person. A person in an Officers’ Academy uniform, with a slight build, freckles and grey hair, apparently sleeping quite soundly slumped against a wall next to a small patch of violets. _Ashe_ , thought Dedue, quite surprised. The ever-resourceful retainer was, unusually, completely at a loss as to what to do. Should he leave him be? No, that wouldn’t be right, what if he had missed an appointment? If Dedue didn’t wake him when he had the opportunity, he would be partially to blame for whatever trouble Ashe got into. Then, logically, he should wake the sleeping commoner. Dedue moved to shake Ashe awake, but the youth stirred, and Dedue backed away. _No_ , he thought. _I must_ _be more careful. Nobody from Faerghus would take kindly to waking up and seeing the face of a man of Duscur_. He looked around the room frantically for a solution, and found one. A small patch of lavender grew next to the window, and from the odd look of the soil Dedue could tell it had been magically-enhanced, and was probably intended to grow the plant for smelling-salts or something of the kind. Thanking the god of luck for his good fortune, Dedue carefully plucked a couple of stalks from places where they would not be missed, and placed them on Ashe’s shoulder, where the potent smell would wake him within a couple of minutes. Backing away quietly, the retainer returned to his work on the other side of the greenhouse, skipping that area for the moment. The sound of movement against the stone wall a couple of minutes later told him that his unexpected companion had woken up.

“Oh, you’ve really done it this time, Ashe,” a boyish-sounding male voice muttered from beside the violet patch. “Wait, what’s this lavender doing on me? Oh, Dedue, is that you?” At the sound of his name, Dedue turned, to see Ashe now standing up and fixing his uniform. The younger man smiled, a slight dusting of red on his cheeks. “I didn’t know you spent any time in here!”

“The head gardener lets me come in and tend to the plants when I have a spare hour. I find it helpful for easing the mind. I didn’t know any other students were particularly interested in gardening.” Ashe, uniform now in order and hair mostly raked into place, walked over in Dedue’s direction.

“Oh, I love it here. Mind you, I spend just as much time in the kitchen or the library. Garreg Mach has such amazing facilities, I get up way earlier than I would at home just to try and make the most of all of it. I guess I should probably cut back a little bit on the late nights, though: I’ve woken up in the library before, but never in the greenhouse in the middle of the day!” Dedue found himself smiling, to his surprise.

“I hadn’t noticed you were asleep,” he said, but then a thought occurred to him and the tension returned. “Ashe, it would not do well for you to be seen in my company. I know how hard you have worked to rise above your birth, and if some people were to see you conversing with a man of Duscur, your reputation could be sullied beyond repair.” It was hard to get the words out, and Ashe was clearly taken aback.

“Oh, um, I hadn’t thought about it that way. I don’t think of you as any different to any of the others, Dedue. And hey, what sort of reputation does a jumped-up commoner really have to sully, anyway?” he joked, though his laugh rang hollow. Dedue persisted – it was for Ashe’s own good – though he again struggled to say what he felt he should.

“This is exactly what I mean, Ashe. You won’t be trusted as a knight if rumours about fraternising with the enemy cling to you with every step you take. You need to take your reputation seriously if you want to pursue your dream.” Ashe looked like he had been slapped.

“W-well, there’s no need to go and make fun of my dreams, Dedue. If you don’t like me, just – well, just come out and say it next time. I’ll make friends with whoever I like and I won’t let anyone stop me becoming a knight. Now,” he said, looking increasingly flustered, “I have an appointment to keep, and even if I don’t understand why, I know when I’m not welcome. Good day, Dedue.”

“I do like,” Dedue started to say before he was cut off by Ashe slamming the door, “spending time with you” he finished lamely. He did like Ashe: he was one of the few people from Faerghus Dedue had met who treated him with the same respect that His Highness did. But he could not understand why. _Why, when Ashe had been given such an opportunity by Lord Lonato, did he risk it all by associating with an enemy of his country?_ Dedue sighed and, after a long moment, went to pick up the watering can. He hadn’t even realised he had dropped it when Ashe left. The man of Duscur continued his gardening, but he couldn’t find solace in it now. Every time he looked up from the plants, he kept picturing that shocked look on Ashe’s face, and how guilty he felt to have caused it.

**

_The Outsider_

“So basically what you’re saying is, you want me to go around and get other people to do all my work for me, and make friends with them. And what do you get out of this exactly?” Hilda asked as she looked at Claude, sitting sprawled out on his bed, legs crossed. They had relocated to his room to talk privately after their tea plans had been interrupted: Claude hadn’t anticipated Edelgard actually staying for long, and so he was only now getting around to filling Hilda in on the reason why he originally arranged to meet her. He grinned and tossed a leather ball in the air a few times, watching its flight as his quick reflexes met it every time it fell back down to earth.

“Well, here’s the thing. It’s no secret that our little flock of Golden Deer aren’t the most unified house going, right? The Black Eagles are all a bunch of stuffy nobles who’ve probably met each other a hundred times at diplomatic events, and from what I can tell half the Blue Lions seem to have grown up together. So if we’re going to make a success of this year, and I intend to make it a success, we need a plan to get everyone nice and friendly and working together as soon as possible.”

“And this is where I come in,” Hilda said in a flat tone. “Well, don’t get your hopes up, mister, because I’m not going to go around flirting with all the boys in the house to keep them on side for you. I have no doubt you think you can wrap the girls around your finger, but frankly I’m not on board with it.” Claude raised his hands in a placating gesture, and sat up on his bed to face the pink-haired girl directly.

“Easy, easy, that’s not where I was going with this at all. The reason I can’t do this on my own is because I’m the house leader: like it or not, that little yellow cape means that any time I talk to somebody, it’s not just their classmate Claude speaking to them, it’s the _house leader_ speaking to them, and for the more suspiciously-inclined that means they’re going to be on their guard. You, on the other hand, are just one of their classmates, so when you go around mingling with people it just looks like you’re making friends, whereas if I go about it the wrong way it looks like I’m trying to do some sort of team-building exercise,” Claude explained, resting one hand behind his head and gesturing with the other. “Which, of course, is exactly what I’m doing, but you see my point.” Hilda appeared to mull it over for a moment, then sighed.

“Look, it’s not like I don’t see the wisdom in this, alright? It makes sense, and I get how people are going to let their guard down more around me than they are around you. After all, I am adorable,” she said with a sarcastic grin, before her expression turned serious again. “But it’s all so _mechanical_ , Claude. Sure, it’d be nice to beat the other classes, at least so long as other people do most of the heavy lifting. But I also really would like to make some friends here, and it feels icky doing so just so I can serve some complicated plot of yours.” Claude shrugged.

“If that’s how you feel about it, then don’t think of it that way. Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to make friends too, but I think if we get our act together we can really make a success of this year. I’m pretty sure the other houses already underestimate us, and we can use that to our advantage if we move quickly. Anyway,” he said, absentmindedly putting a few of his many books in order, “I can give you some time to think about it and we can go over the details at some other point. What did you think of our company in the tea gardens today?” Hilda grimaced slightly.

“Well, they’re certainly not the greatest conversationalists in the world. That Hubert gives me the creeps, and Dedue barely seems to speak except to agree with Dimitri. I’ll admit the prince is cute, though, even if he is a little stiff.”

“Yeah, I got the same feeling off Hubert. Best way to deal with it is just to pretend it’s not happening, I think. Edelgard is something else, though. She’s sharp, no doubt about it, and doesn’t seem like your usual pampered princess.” Hilda considered for a moment, one finger pressed against her chin, before replying.

“I don’t know, I think she seems sweet. She doesn’t seem to like you, but I think she and I got on well enough. I wouldn’t dream about asking her to do anything for me, though: she’d see through me in an instant. I don’t think I’d like to get on her bad side.” Despite himself, Claude grimaced.

“You’re probably right there, Hilda. I don’t think she likes my attitude, but then there’s not much I can do to change that. Still, I wouldn’t say I’m on her _bad_ side, per se. Just maybe someone she wants to keep an eye on, and I can live with that.” Hilda nodded.

“Well, I’m pretty tired,” she said, standing up and stretching, “all this scheming is making me long for my dorm, and I need to give that proposal of yours a bit of thought. I’ll see you round?” Claude got to his feet and opened the door for her with an extravagant bow.

“Til we meet again, my fair lady Hilda.” His pink-haired companion laughed and rolled her eyes, before giving him a mock salute and walking off down the corridor. He closed the door behind her and started tossing the leather ball from hand to hand again. _That went quite well_ , Claude thought. _She’ll take a while to come around, but she’s already thinking about it, and we still have a little while until the mock battle_. His mind went then to Edelgard: how she had effortlessly turned his little gambit to her advantage by trying to win over Hilda, the only person at the table who wasn’t another house leader or a formal second-in-command. _She’s up to something, but what game is she playing? Hubert is definitely in on it as well: he’s too close to her not to be part of whatever she’s planning_. That could wait for another day, however: for now, he was behind on his reading. Hefting one of the library copies of the Hresvelg Treatise on War onto his small desk, he found his place in the huge tome, marked by a feather that he had considered of too poor quality to use in fletching arrows. No matter what professor they were assigned, Claude wasn’t going to leave the tactics in the hands of a novice. With a small notebook beside him to write down his thoughts as they came to him, Claude began at the section titled “Skirmishes”. It was well into the night by the time he closed the tome again and went to sleep, dreaming of ambushes and troop movements and, occasionally, those mysterious lilac eyes that had analysed him over a cup of bergamot tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this took! Just didn't flow right so I took a while away from it and ended up writing most of this in the last couple days. Happy reading and wear a mask!


End file.
